"Thank you for coming. It would've been awful if you'd just crashed in the street."

She didn't want him to fall over and pass out, but oh, how she wanted to know what had happened. But as he slowly picked his way through the jarring memories, Gabrielle let him go at his own pace, plucking tiny shards from his clothes and skin and silently laying on the band-aids. It would do until the power was back and they could go to the hospital. By the time he mentioned the dream, Gaby's hand trailed to hold his, interlacing their fingers.

"It's not your fault," she murmured, almost as an aside.